A Week to Be Wicked (Spindle Cove #2)

She snorted.

“They had to find someone in the royal line. They searched far and wide, and then they found us. So we’re off to the ancestral family home, you see. To retrieve our birth records and the family Bible and such. By this time next month, you could be looking at the prince and princess of Crustacea.”

Emmeline sighed. “It’s like a fairy tale.”

Yes, Minerva thought. Just like a fairy tale. Absolute rot, from beginning to end.

“Oh, it’s no fairy tale,” Colin said. “Don’t envy us our sudden elevation. If we are royalty, our lives will cease to be our own. We’ll have duties, won’t we? We’ll have to leave England—our beloved homes and friends—behind. And then there’s abandoning the hope of love.” His expression went somber. “A prince can never expect to find love.”

In unison, the sisters pressed their hands to their hearts.

“He can’t?” Cordelia asked.

“No, he can’t.” With an air of thoughtful sincerity, he leaned forward. “You see, if I remained just poor, simple Mr. Colin Sand of Sussex, I could take a fancy to a pretty girl I met while traveling. Ask permission to court her. Take the time to become better acquainted. Share with her all my dreams and fancies and secrets, and learn hers. Bring her sweets and bouquets.” He cast a wistful glance out the coach window. “Like any man, I’ve enjoyed my youth, sown my wild oats. But deep down, I always wanted that tender romance with the right girl. Someday.”

Good Lord. He spun these tales so convincingly, even Minerva had to remind herself it was all fabrication. She’d once made the mistake of believing those lies. It’s you, Minerva. It’s always been you. She could still hear the mocking laughter ringing off the turret walls.

This time, at least, she could have been the one to laugh. The young Misses Gateshead were so far gone, they’d all but tripped over the horizon.

Such charm was a talent, she had to give him that. Twenty minutes in the same carriage, and he had two well-bred gentlewomen utterly enamored with a reluctant prince who’d turn down the riches of the world for a chance at true love. Their hearts, souls, smiles, and virtues could be his for a single, smoldering gaze. They’d probably queue up to take turns.

Minerva suddenly realized that he’d never unleashed his full seductive potential in Spindle Cove—at least, not with Diana. A strange surge of gratitude took her by surprise.

“If I’m a prince,” he said, smiling in that disarming, bashful way—the way that revealed his single dimple as though it were a secret vulnerability only the love of a good woman could cure—“I of course will do my duty. I will do my best. But sometimes, I think it might be a relief to find it’s all just a grand mistake.”

The coach lurched to a sudden halt.

“Oh,” exclaimed Emmeline, falling forward. “What’s that?”

Minerva looked out the window for the first time in several minutes. This stretch of road passed through a wooded area. Perhaps they’d come to a turnpike, or the road was muddy ahead.

Without warning, the door of the coach opened, just a crack.

In the opening, the barrel of a pistol gleamed.

“Stand and deliver.”

Chapter Fourteen

Colin very nearly laughed. Not out of amusement, but irony. It was really, truly absurd that part of him welcomed this turn of events. That he’d rather face a highwayman at gunpoint than ride one minute longer in this hellish, suffocating coach. Even spinning outlandish claptrap and enjoying the company of three ladies couldn’t distract him from the too-close walls and the too-warm air. When the carriage had lurched to its unexpected stop, Colin had gone a bit wild inside.

He’d wanted out.

At the sight of the pistol, he’d almost begged, Yes, shoot me. End this misery.

Until that pistol turned in Minerva’s direction, and clarity descended. Now Colin wasn’t panicked.

He was pissing angry.

He cleared his throat, drawing the bastard’s attention. “If you must point that thing at someone, point it at me.”

The highwayman obliged him and threw a canvas pouch through the open door. “Pass the sack. Coin, jewels, watches, rings. All of it goes inside.” An ominous click sounded as he cocked the pistol. “And quickly.”

The Misses Gateshead cowered together with their companion.